Author: Writer

Work would never be the same

Stephanie 844-332-2639 Ext 454

Work was never the same after meeting him. I found myself thirsty for his cock, his mouth & his touch. I would get so wet with a flutter in my chest while driving to the bar&grill where I worked as a server. I was addicted. He turned me out but not before turning me onto things I never knew existed. Early twenties, I knew of BDSM but not on this level. He showed up, like normal. Never knowing which day he would show up.

Never knowing where he would take me when we would sneak off on my break. The unknown kept me on my toes, kept me eager to please him and show off for him. Knowing he was watching me serve other men and flirt with other men. But he knew he had me and that he owned me, I was his Sub and he was my Dom daddy. He would slip me notes while I worked the bar. Little notes of instructions for the upcoming week. These secret notes consisted of specific duties as his sub.

Continue reading “Work would Never be the same” →

Drop for Me

Posted 4 months ago by Writer

Trinity 1-844-332-2639 ext 285

“Drop for me, now look at me.” That’s all I said. And he did—immediately. Eyes wide, curious, a little unsure. He didn’t know what he was getting into. Not really. But I could already see it in his face… the want. The need to surrender. “Breathe in,” I whispered, stepping closer. “Nice and deep. Now out.”

I kept my voice slow, soft, steady. Each word like honey, dripping into his mind. His shoulders relaxed. His chest rose and fell like waves. Perfect. “That’s it,” I cooed, brushing my fingertips lightly across his cheek. “With every breath, you sink a little deeper. Your thoughts are getting quieter. The only thing you hear is my voice.”

He nodded, blinking slow. He didn’t even realize how gone he already was. “Good boy!” That phrase always does something to them. And him? He shuddered—just from that. His cock twitched, already hard, aching, begging. I didn’t touch him. I didn’t need to.

“Every time I say the word drop, you’ll fall a little further. Letting go of everything but me. Every time I say it, you’ll crave my control more. My voice is your command, your permission to let go.” He swallowed. His lips parted. Continue reading “Drop for Me” →

Trinity 1-844-332-2639 ext 285

This particular night was the roleplay that broke him. He came in cocky. Hands in his pockets, pretending he was in control. I told him to sit. He hesitated. Wrong move. “I said sit!!” My voice sliced through the room like silk over steel. He obeyed. Slowly. I smiled. Good boy.

He wanted to “try something different,” something taboo. I told him I had a fantasy—and tonight, he’d play the part. He didn’t ask questions. That was mistake number two.

I walked around him in stilettos, slow and deliberate, dragging my fingernails across the back of his neck. “Tonight, I’m not your girl. I’m your instructor. And you’re going to learn how to please me properly. You’ve been slacking in your performance… and now, you’re staying after hours.” His breath hitched. His pants tightened. I grabbed his chin and made him look at me.
“I grade on obedience. And right now, you’re failing.” I tied his wrists behind the chair with my silk scarf, slid my thigh over his lap, and whispered all the filthy things he’d have to do to earn extra credit. I traced my tongue along his ear, then slapped his cheek. Gently. Enough to make his Continue reading “The Roleplay That Broke Him” →

Trinity 1-844-332-2639 ext 285

I fucked him for revenge and I don’t regret it. He cheated. Lied. Thought I wouldn’t find out. So I called the one man he always hated. His rival. His opposite. Tall, quiet, intense—the kind of man who didn’t have to raise his voice to make you submit. The kind of man who never needed to lie. He just took. I invited him over. Told him the truth. “I need to forget him. Make me.”

He didn’t ask questions. He just shut the door and backed me into the wall, his mouth crashing into mine like punishment and relief at once. It wasn’t gentle. Not even sweet. It was war—and my body was the battlefield. He ripped my clothes off like they offended him. Bent me over the counter and fucked me like I wasn’t just someone’s ex—I was his now.

“Is this how he touched you?” he growled, slamming into me. “Did he make you scream like this?” I answered with moans. With nails digging into his back. With every arch of my hips that begged him to go harder. He gripped my throat—not to choke, just to own me. His free hand fisted my hair, yanking my head back Continue reading “I Fucked Him For Revenge” →

Trinity 1-844-332-2639 ext 285

He calls the shots and I love it. It starts with a look. Not the kind of look that asks. The kind that commands. The kind that tells you what you’re going to do—and you already know you’re going to do it. He was older. Powerful. Hands always in his pockets, voice low, calm… but his eyes? They owned me before he ever touched me.

“I see the way you look at me,” he said one day, closing the door behind us. “You want to be told what to do, don’t you?” I didn’t answer. I just dropped my eyes and nodded. “Strip. Knees. Now.” And I obeyed. God, I obeyed.

I knelt on the floor—bare, trembling, wet. He circled me like a predator with all the time in the world. He touched me only when he wanted to, how he wanted to. One hand in my hair, the other between my thighs. Every whimper was permission for him to take more.

“You’re not allowed to cum until I say so,” he warned. “Understand?” “Yes, Sir.”
That’s when the game really began. He bent me over his desk, tied my wrists behind my Continue reading “He Calls the Shots—And I Love It” →

D

Trinity 1-844-332-2639 ext 285

Room 619 – The night I let go. I wasn’t supposed to be there. Not in that hotel. Not in that hallway. And definitely not in that bed with him. But the second the elevator doors opened and I saw his silhouette leaning against the wall near Room 619, I felt my pulse throb between my thighs. He didn’t say a word when I walked up—just opened the door, let me in, and locked it behind us.

We were both supposed to behave. He’s off-limits—older, taken, dangerous. But I’ve never been a good girl. I’ve always had a taste for what I shouldn’t touch. And tonight, I needed to be ruined. The second the door clicked shut, he was on me. Hands greedy. Mouth desperate. I moaned into his kiss like I’d been holding it in for weeks—because I had. My dress hit the floor before I could even gasp. His hands were rough, his grip unforgiving, and it made me ache.

He threw me on the bed like I was his favorite secret. His mouth traveled down my body, kissing, biting, worshipping. When he slid his fingers inside me, I arched so hard I nearly broke. “So wet for Continue reading “Room 619 – The Night I Let Go” →

Trinity 1-844-332-2639 ext 285

The stranger at the bar was my boyfriend. It was his idea. “Let’s play pretend tonight,” he said. “You be you—but act like you’ve never met me.” He told me where to meet him: a dark lounge tucked in the corner of the city, moody lighting, velvet booths. I walked in like I didn’t belong to anyone. Red lips, black heels, no bra under my silk blouse.

He was sitting at the bar, one hand around a whiskey glass, the other draped casually across his lap. He didn’t even glance at me at first. When he did, his eyes lit up with pure hunger. “You here alone?” he asked, voice low, dangerous. “For now,” I answered, sliding onto the stool beside him.

He bought me a drink. Let his hand graze my thigh as we talked about everything and nothing. My heart was racing—and I knew we were both fighting the urge to drop the act. But it made everything hotter.

Thirty minutes later, we stumbled into a hotel room like we’d just met. He pushed me against the door, yanked my blouse open, and kissed me like he didn’t know my name. He fucked me rough, like Continue reading “The Stranger at the Bar Was My Boyfriend” →

 

Carina 1844-332-2639 ext 293

“Mr. Daniels… I swear, I wasn’t trying to distract you.”

I’m sitting on your desk, legs crossed, skirt hiked up just a little too high. My blouse is unbuttoned enough to reveal the lace of my bra — and the way your eyes keep drifting tells me I’m doing exactly what I intended.

You lean back in your chair, arms folded, voice deep. “This isn’t appropriate, Carina.”

I bite my lip, sliding one heel off slowly, letting it drop to the floor.

“I know. But you called me into your office… and I figured maybe you wanted a little one-on-one performance review.”

I shift, just enough to let the hem of my skirt ride up further. No panties. I made sure of that.

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Carina 1844-332-2639 ext 293

The moment you hear my voice, you already know you’re in trouble.

I’m sprawled across the bed in nothing but a tiny lace thong that clings to me like a secret. One hand trails slowly over my skin, tracing every soft curve, every shiver — like I’m performing just for you.

“Mmm… you have no idea what you do to me.”

My breath catches, just enough for you to hear how badly I need it — how badly I need you.

My fingers slide over my breasts, squeezing gently until a soft moan escapes. Then lower… gliding between my thighs… brushing that spot that’s already soaked and throbbing.

I’m not shy about it. I want you to hear every sound I make — every breathy whimper — and know it’s all for you.

“God, I’m so wet already. Are you going to make me beg for it?”

Continue reading “You’re in Trouble” →

Amy 1-844-33CANDY ext.460

I’m the girl who turns “What if?” into “Oh God, yes.” With a voice that’s been called “whiskey neat with a side of trouble,” I’ve made a career out of making strangers forget they’re strangers.The spaces between your shame and your hunger. Maybe you’re a CEO who needs to be stripped of control, or a suburban dad who craves a back-alley dominatrix with a PhD in humiliation. I’ll morph into your muse, your tormentor, your accomplice. You want a confessional? A rebellion? A fever dream where I’m both the cure and the symptom? Buckle up, sweetheart.

Continue reading “The static between your thoughts and your zipper” →